


A Razor in his Cap

by dugesia



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3761617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dugesia/pseuds/dugesia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy meets Ada's lodger and things go rather quickly from there. </p><p>A series of scenes as Tommy and James develop a relationship during the events of Season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This won't make sense unless you've seen Peaky Blinders Season 2. I'm writing Tommy as bisexual and largely unconcerned about it, but there will be brief mentions of homophobia.

When Tommy knocked, a young man opened the door to Ada’s house dresses in undershirt and slacks, and asked “Who are you?” At first glance Tommy determined that he was unarmed, thin, slouching, and unremarkable. At that first glance, he seemed like another minor problem. 

Tommy pushed past him to find Ada in the sitting room.

“I asked you a question.” The young man followed him in.

Ada replied on Tommy’s behalf, “It’s all right, James. This is my brother.”

“Who’s he?” Tommy asked.

“He rents a room.”

“You need to rent out rooms?”

“Actually, she doesn’t charge rent.” James noted.

“He’s a writer, which means he’s skint.” Ada informed Tommy.

“You get up late these days, Ada.”

“Hmm, I go to bed late.” 

“Where’s Karl?” 

“What do you want, Tommy?” Ada set down her paper. Tommy looked at James with a fair bit of import. “Oh god, before you start sizing him up for a wedding suit, he’s not interested in me … Or in girls of any kind.”

“Ada!” James admonished.

“What? Tommy won’t judge you. He sure as hell won’t go to the police.”

As James was excusing himself from the awkward moment, Tommy decided there could be some advantage here. He moved to catch James before he could leave the sitting room.

“James, I’m Thomas. Pleased to meet you. ” Tommy held out his hand for a shake. 

“Can I have a minute with my sister, please?” Tommy saw the change in James’ face. One moment he was any young man in shirtsleeves, and the next James looked at him with half-lidded eyes and a half-smile. This was a more honest version of James, or maybe another performance for a different sort of audience. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tommy was having Ada guarded, so it was nothing to drop in when she’d taken Karl for a day in the countryside, visiting some charming, retired revolutionaries. James answered the door, put together for the day in gray slacks and a buttoned shirt.

“Thomas. I am sorry, Ada’s gone on holiday.”

“I’ve come to drop off some papers.” He waited for James to invite him in this time. Once in the door it would be easy work to stay and make James useful.

“Of course.” James stepped aside just enough and Tommy had to brush by him. James had that same smile, with his chin tucked down so he had to look up to meet Tommy’s eyes. Easy work. Did James think he was playing Tommy, or did he think they were playing the same game? James hadn’t looked at him differently so Ada hadn’t told him the name Shelby yet.

James ushered him into Ada’s parlor and gestured to the writing table. “If you leave the papers in the drawer there, I’ll make sure she knows.”

“Yes, thank you.” Tommy pulled a copy of the trust documents from his vest, nothing that couldn’t be left where James could read them. He straightened from closing the drawer and turned to fully face James, returned James’ small smile and let it reach his eyes, because Tommy knew how flat his eyes could be and that wouldn’t do here. The moment stretched. Tommy could wait and let James think he wasn't sure of the first step, let James think he was the one doing the seducing. 

“Can I offer you some tea?”

That was almost worth raised eyebrows. “Tea?”

“Ah. Or perhaps a drink?” 

“Whiskey, please.” Tommy took a seat on the couch. 

“Scotch or Irish?”

“Irish.”

The sitting room was dim with lace curtains obscuring the view from the street. The men watching the house knew better than to look where they hadn't been told to look. James poured and handed over the tumbler quite deliberately letting their fingers brush. Then took his own drink and sat on the couch as well, just far enough away to look proper.

“You know, Ada warned me off you.”

“She did.”

“She said you’d end up getting me hurt. Was she telling the truth?” James was teasing.

“I do bad things. And you’d be better off having nothing to do with me.” There, Tommy’d given him a warning if he had the sense to take it. Tommy knew without doubt, he would not have the sense to take it.

“I’ve been told I do bad things as well.” James moved across the couch and reached to slide his hand up Tommy’s shoulder, lean in and kiss him. It was a brief, warm press of lips then James leaned back to check his expression. Tommy paused, it was novel having someone not knowing he was a Shelby. Thomas Shelby. He wasn’t sure he liked being some generic rich man to James.

He pulled James back in, pressing their mouths together. Pulled closer and James swung a leg over to straddle his lap. They were blindly unbuttoning each other’s clothing. Hands fumbling for clasps and tracing ribs, getting tangled with each other. Tommy shrugged off his vest then leaned back to look over James’ long lines as he drew the shirt off his shoulders and pulled his undershirt up over his head. He ran fingers slowly along waist of James’ trousers then up his sides, tracing marks as he went. 

James was just as pale and beautifully slim as Tommy imagined, but there are scars making lines and dots that he hadn’t anticipated. James stayed still under the exploring fingers, felt Tommy’s calluses on his skin, watched Tommy look him over not like he was waiting for permission but like he’s hungry and enjoyed letting the hunger build. 

Tommy wrapped hands around James’ ribs and lifted, flipping them over. James hands ran up under Tommy’s shirt and pulled it off as they kissed again and ground their hips together slow. The feel of James under him was perfect, all hot, soft skin and want. James arched to meet Tommy, tried to drive everything faster, hands everywhere he could reach. He ran his palms up Tommy’s arms, over his chest, thumbing nipples as he went, then around Tommy’s back where he clutched and left crescent marks and sharp lines of sensation as he dragged his nails down Tommy’s back.

“Slow, slower,” Tommy murmured to him. “I’ll give you what you need.”

“Will you?” James seemed to find that funny.

Tommy wound a hand in his hair and held his head back, pinned James with is weight, and mouthed down his throat, over his collarbone, hips still moving together. Tommy was all muscle on top of him, controlled and so intent on every touch. James let himself feel it all – the weight on him, sweat collecting between their stomachs, the pressure of their hips rolling together, and the cloth of their trousers muting sensation. Tommy’s mouth made soft trails of heat with the occasional scrape of teeth, he worked back up James’ jaw to his mouth.

Tommy reached down to undo James trousers, then pull off trousers and pants, sitting back on his knees to look. James was panting and tousled, the thin line of hair on his stomach leading down to his cock, hard against his stomach.

“Let me see you as well, then,” James said.

Tommy stood a moment to slide off his pants and let James look. He moved in to kiss James hard. Shifting down he gripping James’ sides and mouthing along the crease of his hip, sucked and bit, leaving a scatter of red marks when James didn’t object to the first. He moved a hand to James’ cock, jerking him slowing and rubbing his thumb around the head. James twisted his hips, trying to move faster, trying to move with Tommy, and tangling his hands in the cushions while Tommy watched. 

“Please.” James breathed out.

Tommy shifted taking the head of James’ cock in his mouth and getting a surprised shout. He sucked, bobbing and moving a hand in time along his shaft. Each firm rub or flick of his tongue under the head had James whining, hips jerking despite his best efforts to be polite. James’ hand buried in Tommy’s hair, petting over his head like praise.  
Tommy moved his other hand up to cup James’ balls, then rub behind them. And with a sudden garbled warning, James was coming and Tommy was swallowing it down, sucking hard, and then gentling him through the aftershocks.

Tommy slid back up the couch and cradled James’ face in his hands, smoothing sweaty hair back, and kissed the corner of his mouth. When James fully came back to himself he pressed their mouths together and tasted himself on Tommy’s tongue.

James shifted out from under Tommy and made to move down his body. Tommy stopped him.

“Stay up here with me.” He took James’ hand and mouthed over the palm to get it wet before guiding it down to his cock. He wrapped his hand over Tommy’s, showing him the rhythm he liked, smooth motion with a slight twist. Then Tommy’s hand were back to cradling James’ face and gripping his back, holding him still for long, deep kisses.

James could see him getting closer, cupping the back of Tommy’s head he nipped at his earlobe and whispered to him.

“You’re so good. Love tasting myself on your lips and feeling how hard you are for me. Want you to fuck me. Would you have me sit up on your cock? I’d ride you until my legs are trembling, until I’m exhausted and strung out on the feeling.” And then Tommy was coming over his fingers and gasping against his neck. 

... ... ... 

They lay on the chaise after, trading a cigarette back & forth while the evening light got long. James was tracing the tattoo on Tommy's chest, moved to the tattoos on each arm, one after another. He stopped to prop himself up on a forearm and consider Tommy's cap and discarded clothing, then looked down at Tommy's face. James' hand was playing with his hair, curling long fingers in it, but his expression was serious. He was more perceptive than Tommy'd first given him credit for. Not the average dilettante writer living on ideals and art, then. 

James spoke, "Earlier I said people tell me I do bad things. I wasn't talking about this, though people certainly say that. I used to be in with the anarchists," he's rushing over himself to explain. "I didn't really believe in the cause, it was for a boy. I learned some things, and I’m not sure if I ever hurt anyone." 

James paused there, clearly thinking on how to ask, "What you said, I guessed you meant you had a wife and children. That's usually what it means from a man who looks like you. But when you said you do bad things, that is not what you meant."

Tommy sighed. Full of mostly harmless surprises, this one. 

"You're right, that's not what I meant. Come here." Tommy pulled James in closer to rest more fully on his chest. "Ada only told you her married name, but her family name is Shelby. My name is Thomas Shelby."

James' had laid his head down and his expression was hidden. 

Tommy ashed the cigarette. He waited a minute, then ran his other hand through James' hair and down to brush his cheek, hoping the movement would be taken well. When James stayed perfectly still, he drew back his hand. 

"I should go."

"No, I ..." James seemed to set aside some thought, and moved to sit up and look at Tommy. "Would you like another drink, Thomas? Or I could fix some food." 

"I don't expect you to treat me differently." Tommy knew that for a lie. From his bland look, James saw this lie as well, but he looked down and let his face soften into raised eyebrows and almost a smile.

"Alright then. Will you stay the night? The food's libel to be shit, since Ada won't hire a cook."

"No, thank you. But if it's alright, I'll come see you again James."

"Yes, I would like that." His smile, at least, looked honest to Tommy.

They dressed quietly. James came around to face Tommy and buttoned his vest, running hands from Tommy's shoulders down to his waist.

"I'm surprised you don't wear a gun harness."

"I do normally." That brought easy laughter from James, and he brushed the hair back from Tommy's eye and set his cap on his head. It seemed James was the sort of man who'd have an anarchist lover and pursue rich, married gentlemen.


	2. Chapter 2

Years back Tommy’d said “Everybody’s a whore, Grace. We just sell different parts of ourselves.” With May, he could almost put that idea out of mind, but it just meant he was now the kind of high-class whore that could pick clients. Always another level to climb. Keep climbing and maybe his horse would win the Derby, his brothers would be happy, his Aunt Polly would sit untouchable atop a mountain of respectable money, his lover would hear envy not gossip, and he would rule it all. That day had not yet come.

He felt that keenly now that Solomon had delivered Arthur to the police, and Michael had been taken on trumped-up charges as well. He would put the pieces in motion to get them back. And he would meet with Grace in a few days’ time. Tommy avoided thinking about how he would feel seeing Grace. He knew what he would do, and that was the important bit. He would show her all that had changed, all he had built because he hadn’t left. And he would stick that proverbial knife in Major Campbell’s side and twist with all his weight – a prelude to a more literal knife.

But that evening Tommy would again be seeking the company of an insincere revolutionary and broke writer. Tommy was a busy man, getting busier by the day, too busy for people who didn’t offer a payout. And this was something of an uncertain payout, even in his business. 

When he’d looked up James before his first visit, there had been nothing immediate that would put Ada in danger. When Tommy looked deeper it seemed James’d grown up on the edge of poor in a family with too many children to keep track of them all, especially the one that argued with nuns at the charitable school, and ran off with revolutionary young men. James’ anarchist had been true believer, but unfortunately for his longevity, he had not been the most skilled or careful bomb maker.

Tommy wondered if James had acquired an education in gelignite and ordnance from his lover, and if so, how well to trust the teaching of a man who’d blown himself up on accident.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tommy sat in the most nondescript car the Blinders had, waiting for James to leave Ada’s house and make for one of the clubs. In the rearview he saw James with waved hair and a touch of rouge turn the corner, and Tommy waited until he was passing the car to say something.

“Pardon me, could you tell me how to get to Small Heath?” James started and made a move for something in his pocket before realizing it was Tommy in the car.

“You want to know how to get to Small Heath?” It took James a moment to cotton on. “I’m headed partway there, sir. If you like I could show you?”

“Yes, thank you.” Tommy opened the door for James, and started the car as he climbed in.

“Where are we actually going, Thomas?” James asked when they were on the road.

“I thought we’d go to one of my houses and have a drink. Unless you’re set on somewhere?”

“No, no. Lay on, Macduff.”

Tommy looked sideways, “I wouldn’t cast myself as Macduff and crown another man king.”

“Well, I will not be your Lady, if you’re Macbeth, so we’ll have to find another play.”

Tommy drove them to one of the properties in his name. Not so fashionable as Ada’s neighborhood, nor the sort of family neighborhood that held Aunt Pol’s house. It was clean and decently appointed. Tommy knew there was a fully stocked bar and kitchen because he’d had them taken care of the day before, and walked through so he knew the layout.

He lead James into the sitting room, and poured drinks. James was circling the room, looking at paintings of landscapes and the moderately fine vase on the coffee table. He was increasingly concerned, but hiding it well if the person watching weren’t Tommy Shelby. Perhaps James though he wanted something other than sex? Of course Tommy did, but James seemed very concerned for someone who hadn’t yet heard what was required.

“This is a charming house,” James said when he came to a stop. Tommy had taken a seat in one of the high-back chairs.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not your house though.”

“I own it.”

“Of course, I mean you don’t live here. You’ve never lived here.”

“No,” the moment stretched until Tommy asked, “Is something wrong? I can drive you home if you like, James, or somewhere else.” That seemed to reassure James somewhat, and he looked over at Tommy like he was assessing the situation from a new angle.

“You don’t go to the clubs for men like me.” Tommy looked inquisitive and James continued, “I thought you might mean something else by bringing me here. The prettier boys talk about getting a rich man to set them up in a house, dress them up and give them spending money for drinks and drugs, and come fuck them in the evenings.”

“And that’s not what you want.” 

“No, I think I would feel trapped doing that.”

“As opposed to the freedom of living off my sister?” That was a bit harsh. James didn’t take it badly though, he looked down with an abashed smile. 

“Ada is very kind, and I would be in far worse straits without her kindness. I am grateful.”

“In light of that gratitude, I have a request.” James didn’t move or react, and Tommy considered that perhaps the anarchists had taught him some useful skills after all.  
“I’m grateful to Ada. I don’t think she’d be pleased if I was doing you favors.”

“Nevertheless, at some point in the next few months I would like you to come with me and stand outside a bakery while I talk with some gentlemen.”

“Undoubtedly you have other men who could stand outside a bakery for you.”

“But I would prefer you.”

“Nice as it is to be preferred, I’d like to know why.”

Tommy considered this request, “Because you are not known to the men inside, and you may be required to speak with knowledge about the Socialist League, among other things.”

James nodded in thanks, and went to pour a heavy drink and threw it back. 

“What does it mean if I decline?”

“I’ll drive you home, and you’ll be Ada’s lodger and none of my concern.” Tommy paused, “However, I know that in the interest of your independence, you’ve been applying to jobs at local papers. It can be difficult for a young man these days, and all the more difficult if there is any rumor about his inclinations, personal or political. But if you were an acquaintance of mine, I could recommend you to the editor of the Birmingham Daily Post.” Tommy did prefer honey to vinegar when it got him what he wanted.

“That is a more generous offer than I had expected,” James said. Tommy lit a cigarette and offered one to James. They smoked in silence for a few moments. “Yes, Thomas, I’d be pleased to stand outside a bakery for you.”

“Good.” Tommy stood and offered a hand to James, “Let me show you the rest of the house?”

“Oh, I think just showing me the largest bedroom will be sufficient,” James said dryly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Birmingham Daily Post did exist after 1914.
> 
> My knowledge of 1900's anarchism is all from Wikipedia. In the meeting with Solomons, Tommy Shelby mentions the anarchist bombing on Wall Street, which happened in 1920. I've connected James' past to the Socialist League, which was a UK socialist group that was gradually taken over by anarchists.
> 
> Oscar Wilde had anarcho-socialist leanings, so James' political leanings aren't strictly unusual.


End file.
